entropy

Sometimes the friction gets inside, it seeps through all the seeming. The still beset by the breath, this burning down, this reduction to dirt and rust. The work reaching through the roots, the depths blessed by the imminent sun, the earth climbing up through the architecture towards the star on top. That confectionery cherry to finish the treat as the distance to wish, counting in thousands like it was expected thunder, the illumination to last word from first spark in hyperbole and aching heart. Maybe it’s an echo, maybe it’s a signal, maybe someone’s signing on. The ego gets the message, the animal does its inventory. These moments while the names give out.

It is the idea that beckons, the spoilage past the sell by, the dogma as it’s taught. The engine and the enigma share the ambiguity, the traces of your being behind your deft and knowing brush. There is only the reckoning of this absence, the light of a far off galaxy spinning like a top, the bright and blessed notion left entangled in the atmosphere of spent arrival. This once that passes, this once that sets in at never. Only the words trailing wonder, the waves that lap and break. 

Mistakes accumulate, it is their given state. Borders fade and rivers bend, the tune is noodled there and back again, the streets scraped by skateboard tricks while the sky bends blue. I take my turn at the wheel as the events again overwhelm, careening through the calendar while the movies fill the screens. Warrantless and keen with need I climb the dull blade of appetite, holding to the ritual as I rattle and buck. These bones bump around, this blood turns over, the engine of meat and wind only moves one way. Here I steam and smoke, reeling time and tense. The song gives in to saxophone, then follows the train into the wing leavened dusk. Bird song and laughter, the fade and the fall.